


Hello after Goodbye

by Hepburn_Junkie22



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: F/F, Non-Canon Relationship, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Something that just popped into my head, There are so many things to work through in this ship, i just love them together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 13:37:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20228722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hepburn_Junkie22/pseuds/Hepburn_Junkie22
Summary: Brenda comes back to LA after a few years of challenges; can she settle back into the city she loves so dearly? What about those relationships she left behind?  Is it too late to fix them?





	Hello after Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> These characters and their perspective shows are not mine, I'm only borrowing them <3
> 
> The song I listened to while writing this piece: Holy by King Princess. That might give you some insight as to where I'm attempting to take this story.

Brenda had taken to sitting inside the coffee shop a few blocks down from Parker Center. She wasn’t there every day, sometimes she’d go a full week before she walked through the smudged glass of the front door. She tried to time her outings so she wouldn’t run into anyone who would recognize her, no one familiar meant that no one would attempt to start a conversation; no one to ask her where she had been or what she was doing now. No one to dredge up the past and make her feel as if all she had went through in the intervening years had meant nothing. Brenda hadn’t been idle in the years since she’d left the LAPD; considering how she left, she should be grateful that she was able to leave rather unscathed.

Chief Investigator had only kept her entertained for so long, it was much more of a bureaucratic title than the jobs she had been used to in her lifetime. She was a figurehead who reviewed cases and helped to determine what course of action to take; it also helped that she looked good in cocktail attire since she was paraded around that circuit often. She left the DA’s office after a year and settled back in Washington DC, the pull of the familiar like a siren’s call. She began doing consulting jobs for the CIA as well as teaching a few courses to their new recruits. It wasn’t detective work, but it did hold her interest in most cases and frankly it paid well. She was beginning to find her way when she was forced to make another drastic decision. 

Six months into her return to the CIA her Daddy called her in the middle of the afternoon, which was odd in and of itself, using the FaceTime. After an almost hour-long conversation Clay Johnson had explained to his only daughter that he had discovered some weeks before that he was in the final stages of congested heart failure. Soon after the phone call, Brenda resigned her position within the CIA and moved home to Atlanta; she wanted to be there for her Daddy in the way she wasn’t able to be for her Mama. She was there through the various doctors’ appointments, the enactment of hospice, and finally the last few days.

By January of the following year, the patriarch of the Johnson family had passed on, leaving his heartsick children in his wake. Brenda elected to stay in the family home in Atlanta, a shock to not only her but her siblings as well. Going through the house one room at a time helped her to process not only her grief of losing her Daddy, but also the grief leftover from her Mama’s passing. She found a new sense of gratitude for the love her parents had given her unconditionally, but she also mourned the missed opportunities and wasted years in between.

There were times where she felt so alone and overwhelmed, that it became physically and mentally painful. Self-doubt and loathing ran rampant those first few weeks after her Daddy’s death; it was a slow process but eventually she came to terms with it. Grief never truly disappears; it just becomes easier to live with day by day. By the time she had sorted through the house and helped her brothers to list it, she was content with herself and her choices, which included admitting to herself and Fritz that their marriage was no longer working.

When she had left the LAPD, Brenda became less concerned with what Fritz thought of her or her ‘galivanting across the country,’ as he had called it. He had made the point, on more than one occasion, that she was running which in hindsight made a lot of sense. That was something that was as ingrained in her as her love of chocolate, run from the things she can’t control. Things were different now and she needed to face this head on.

The divorce, unlike a lot of things in the last few years, was relatively painless. Fritz kept his things and she kept hers, the debt they’d accumulated as a couple was taken care of by selling the LA property that was in both their names. He kept his car, his furniture, his baseball memorabilia, and of curse Joel. She kept the furniture she had purchased when she’d moved to DC as well as the few personal items she’d taken with her. To make sure that everything between them was settled, Brenda even used the money she garnered from the sale of her parents’ house to pay back Fritz’s inheritance; every single cent he’d used to pay her retainer during the Baylor case. At their last meeting sans lawyers, Fritz had commented on how she had matured and grown as a person, and for once Brenda agreed with him.

So as Brenda slowly recounted what had happened to bring her to this moment, sipping her vanilla latte, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for the person she had become. She watched languidly as the people on the street passed by the window, some pulling their coats closer to their bodies as the wind picked up. Southern California was experiencing a record-breaking cold snap, with only a high of sixty degrees, a rare day in Los Angeles. She had missed her city and when it came time to make a decision to settle somewhere new or familiar, the pull of the West Coast made the decision for her. It was effortless to settle back into a routine. The same streets, only with some new businesses or restaurants, the same movie theaters, the same supermarkets…even the same coffee shops.

She hadn’t realized how introspective she had become until she lifted the reusable cup to her lips only to cringe at the taste of cold coffee. The goal for the morning had been to hunker down and wade through the different contracts, each neatly in their own envelope, on the table looking at her expectantly. Each one would lead her to a different place in the city; some opportunities were more favorable than others, but she had made herself promise to look at each one critically. She didn’t need a job, financially she was secure, but she was beginning to become bored. It was in Brenda’s opinion that when she became bored, she tended to find trouble.

_Idle hands and all that…_

Shaking her head slightly, she picked up an envelope that had the Mayor’s seal on the front. She hummed quietly as she began to read the mission statement on the cover letter, her interest piquing at the words ‘_LAPD Liaison_.’ Although as quickly as her face brightened it just as quickly deflated. There was no way she could be connected, in any capacity, to the LAPD; she wasn’t sure she was strong enough for that. She let a sigh pass her lips, while setting the off-white folder in the ‘NO,’ pile. The next folder she reached for was red, a sign of the District Attorney’s office which Brenda confirmed when she saw Andrea’s signature looping at the bottom of the first page.

She was so lost in her thoughts while trying to decipher the legal jargon, DA’s really had their own unique language, that she didn’t notice when someone from her past entered the coffee shop. In fact, Brenda didn’t notice the figure until they had made their way through the line, collected their order, and were standing next to the plush chair she was seated in. A delicate throat clearing made her look up quickly, locking eyes with the one and only, Sharon Raydor. 

Brenda felt her jaw go slack, as if she were a fish desperately gasping as she was pulled from the water.

Sharon was every bit the put together person she had been when Brenda had seen her last. Her hair was darker, more brown than red, and what the Blonde suspected was closer to her natural color. It was, however, much shorter and curled slightly above her shoulders. Her face seemed fuller as if she had been getting adequate sleep and nourishment; her well-tailored pantsuit hugging her curves and her dark trench coat wound tightly around her torso. Her eyes were the same piercing green color behind her lens, more discernable with the neutral makeup she seemed to now favor. They were scrutinizing Brenda in a way that never failed to make her feel ever so small. Sharon smiled politely, if she was surprised to see Brenda, she didn’t show it.

“Chief,” she offered in a way of greeting

It took Brenda a few moments to come up with a response. It had been years since she had last had contact with this woman. In different circumstances, she was sure that Sharon would have become a close friend. Brenda felt a pang of emotion at that thought; such a shame.

Brenda smiled genuinely, “Captain Raydor, fancy meeting you here.”

The older woman laughed softly, “Well it is on my way to Parker Center, Chief.”

Brenda hummed softly in agreement. She was still looking at Sharon, lost in thought when she noticed the older woman shift her weight. It was then that she registered the act as one of uncertainty, perhaps nervousness? She internally berated herself for being such bad company and shifted the plush chair across from her with her outstretched foot.

“Care to join me?”

This time Sharon didn’t attempt to hide her surprise, but quickly schooled her features into a smile. This one seemed authentic, not the intolerant smirk she had used when they were sharing a crime scene or the polite smile from the beginning of the conversation. No, this one seemed to say she was genuinely pleased at the prospect of having coffee with Brenda.

Her voice flowed melodically, one syllable rolling into the next.

“It would be my pleasure, Chief.”

Brenda held up her hand, as if she were asking for silence.

“On one condition,” Brenda stated as the brunette settled opposite of her, “You call me Brenda.”

Sharon seemed to process this as she crossed her legs slowly. The younger woman could see the wheels turning as her mind worked to make sense of this new development. The brunette briefly captured her lower lip with her teeth, worrying it slightly. She could see the moment when Sharon relaxed, accepting Brenda’s gesture for what it was, an olive branch of sorts.

“I think I can do that, Brenda.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have an idea in the works on how to continue this story and as always I would love to hear your thoughts. It has been quite a few years since I've started a multi chapter fic, but i'm willing to go on the journey if you are :) They were the first paring I consistently wrote stories for and I'm excited to be back!
> 
> Please don't think this means I won't finish any of the other fics I've started. The next chapter for 'We Found Love' is nearly complete and should be uploaded in the next few days. I've also started on the next section of 'Broken Hearts.' 
> 
> I am willing to take requests as well, although one shots would be preferable.


End file.
